HO HO HO Riddick for SANTA!
by Magicflute
Summary: On Crematoria: Riddick and Toombs activate a timetravelling device by accident and find themself in a large Mall ... nowadays.
1. Chapter 1

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Prelude 

_On Crematoria: Riddick and Toombs activate a timetravelling device by accident and find themself in a large Mall ... _

**Ho Ho Ho**

_Chapter 1_

"Come again?" For the first time in his life Riddick wondered if he could trust his ears. Had that fucker just really said what Riddick thought he had said?

"I told you to put this on! I'd do it but I'm not the right size! Fuck, man, it's the only way we're going to get outta here without attracting too much attention…"

"Not attracting attention? You gotta be kidding me! You little FUCK! YOU PLANNED THIS!" Riddick was bellowing now, blue veins apparent under the strap of his goggles, his forward trusted jaw visibly hardening.

"No way, _no way_ am I going to wear that thing! I'd rather ghost myself!"

Toombs grinned and whipped on his feet. "Well you either grab your panties and do as I say, big boy, or I'm gonna leave you on this lil' pleasure ball of a planet to rot.

Remember – I'm the one with the time shifting inter-dimensional device who can get us out of this crap you landed us into when you pulled your one-man show at Crematoria and threw yourself on me like that."

His grin widened. He seemed not to notice Riddick's eyes drilling into him.

Riddick knew when he was beaten. He wanted, no, _needed _to get the fuck out of here.

Behind the door, the ugly, nearly alien, sounds of some age-old Christmas jingle droned on, along with bored loudspeaker voices announcing one hour of exceptional some pre-gift-wrapped and pre-packaged children toys for half price.

He groaned and donned the ugly garment. It seemed to be composed of some cheap synthetic red robe with fake fur, matching red pants and hat, a faux leather black belt and something labeled 'boot tops'. Everything just barely large enough to fit him.

Riddick pulled it over his head, "A bit tight in the shoulders there. Gimme a hand. And what the fuck is Winnie the Pooh?"

Toombs was getting impatient, "Who cares?"

He yanked the robe down and threw Riddick a large synthetic belt and a white wig with a long white beard. The beard was fixed to the wig with cheap elastic bands. The silver-white beard, once fixed to Riddick's chin, had rows of little curls and was so long it hung over his navel. Everything he was wearing now was looking so obviously, shriekingly fake that Riddick could only shake his head. Did those people really think they could fool kids with that stuff? Or their parents?

He pulled up the pair of boots Toombs had shoplifted, when the lights were still out and the building was sleeping, and remembered the moment of total disorientation they had experienced….

One moment he was climbing the rope, spotting the last wards fighting the last Mercs, then he was jumping on Toombs, rolling and fighting for the gun on the floor of the prison ward - then there was a bright flash, hurting his eyes – and they crashed into what appeared to be women's underwear. Lots of it, on display.

They jumped apart, looking for an opening in the defence of their adversary and then they both saw the wall clock at the same time.

December 21, Year 2005.

Toombs had yelled at him to stop, that they had activated his travelling device and so Riddick hold back on the kill until he had figured out what had happened to them. Together, they had figured out that they were in some old fashioned mall. Together they explored the festively decorated huge building. Together they saw the enormous mob of people waiting before every entrance door and in wordless agreement together they had retreated to this storage room, where they had found all sort of disguises.

There was no way they would get out of this place unnoticed, covered in grime and blood and clothed like they were. And out they wanted, to find someplace quiet, get the device to work and return to their own world. One thing was clear for both of them – until then they were stuck with each other.

They cleaned up the best they could, chose a couple of costumes that matched the mall's decor – that part was easy, lots of dummies and pictures around the mall were wearing clothes just like those.

And now, here they were, dressed and ready to mingle, in the ugliest disguise Riddick had had to wear in his whole life.

Riddick gazed down at his own black boots, then at Toombs in his green velvet tunic, matching sleeves, collar, pants and pointy hat, red and white striped socks and dropped to the green leather elf shoes.

Silent laughter was shaking him as the humour of the situation got to him.

"I could make you some pointed matching ears," he offered, metal flashing from his sleeves.

Toombs evenly looked back at him, "Don't forget to go 'ho, ho, ho' a lot, baby, and I'll let you keep the beard when I haul your ass back to slam."

Through the partly open door they had spied already on a couple other Santas in even cheaper looking costumes walking by, and had by now a good idea of how the wearer of this costume was supposed to behave. He said 'ho, ho, ho', smiled a lot, was greeted by stressed mothers and sneered at by spoiled children and otherwise left alone, which was just fine by Riddick.

"Ready or not…" began Toombs

"… here we come." finished Riddick for him and out they walked.

For a couple minutes things went fine.

They had made their way halfway out of the toy department when a small hectic looking sweating man grabbed Riddick's arm, "About time! We have been looking for you for the past half hour… this way!"

"You got the wrong man …" Riddick began, but by then a little crowd had gathered around them, lights were flashing, pictures taken and a small, fat, sticky looking blonde girl with freckles thrust in his arms by her mother, so that all he could do was hold her up and follow the little man. Toombs followed behind swearing under his breath.

"I don't think you are really Santa Claus," informed him the little girl, one finger busy exploring the inside of her nose. "I think you don't even know where the North Pole is!"

The finger came out and was wiped on the long fake beard.

_You got that right kid. I'm a time travelling mass murderer from the future and the green guy behind me is a Merc_,_ who would rape your mother before selling her to the highest bidder and_ shiv_ you without loosing any sleep._

Aloud, Riddick said nothing.

"What are you waiting for! Sit down!" snapped their guide at him, gesticulating at a large podium covered in fake snow where a huge old fashioned sled with gold painting managed to stand perfectly still behind several life-sized animated dolls of Reindeers who were waving their heads from side to side.

The back of the sled was full with packages of all kind of sizes, colors and wrappings.

"Remember, green for boys, red for girls, pink for toddlers, no kid over twelve allowed on the sled, ring the bell when the sled's empty and we'll fill it up for you again."

"What?" repeated Riddick, sitting down in the sled. He looked around but their guide had vanished.

The mother of the little girl in his arms snarled at him, "Well? We don't have all day, you know."

He glowered back at her at a total loss of what was expected from him now.

"What a loser," the sticky little girl commented.

(to be continued)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Riddick carefully grabbed the kid's clothes and lifted it single-handed like a wet kitten until their eyes were at the same height. He turned his head slightly, so that the bright spotlights did not shine in his sensitive eyes.

"That's what you think, kid?" he growled.

The sticky girl stared in the mercury eyes and squealed, "Put me down, you'll rumple my dress! And you got to sit me on your lap and sing me the "Here comes Santa" carol and ask me if I like Rudolph and then you have to ask me if I've been a good girl and then you got to give me my pre-sent! Don't you know anything?"

Riddick dropped her like a hot coal on his lap, put his mouth near the small ear and whispered, "Nice try. I don't sing. I give you your present, you get lost. _Fast_. And bad things _won't_ happen to you. Who the fuck is Rudolph?"

The girl's face went red, making her look like a small sticky raspberry, her watery blue eyes became moist with tears and Riddick felt his anger melting. Kids! And then the girl surprised him by whispering right back "You're _mean_! I knew all along you're not a real Santa! Rudolph is your _best_ reindeer and he's got a red nose and if you give me two presents I won't tell mummy that you said a bad word to me!"

She sniffed.

Riddick lowered his voice even more. "Gimme the other reindeers' names and you get three."

A big happy smile crept over the sticky little face and then Riddick felt two small arms creeping right around his neck, a man shouted "WONDERFUL, HOLD THAT POSE, that one is going to make the front page" and flashlights started crackling all around him again.

He barely could hear the little voice whispering behind his fake beard, "'Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!' That's what you say to them when you fly all the way from the North Pole to bring children their gifts."

He straightened, looked at Toombs and snapped his fingers three times. Toombs looked ready to kill him but grabbed three red boxes from the back of the sled and handed them to him.

A moment later the girl was gone and a chubby little black boy had taken his place.

Riddick smiled. He thought he knew what he had to do now.

"Ho, ho, ho! What's your name, kid?"

"…Michael…"

"Are you a good boy, Michael?"

"…s…"

_I'm gonna kill Toombs. He made me wear this fucking costume._

"And do you like… Rudolph?"

Before he could stop him, the boy was beaming up at him and started to singsong in a gravelly, surprisingly deep voice for his age:

"Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer

had a very shiny nose.

And if you ever saw him,

you would even say it glows…"

_Oh yeah Toombs. I'm gonna ghost you slowly. Just get me the fuck out of here first._

Five Bills, three Johns, four Maries, two Susans, one William and some Chinese twins (Yi and Hong Lin) later Riddick was ready to tear off his beard and coat and take his chances with the crowd, mall security and local police forces.

Toombs, who had cheerfully taken over his role as elf got one look at Riddick's eyes when a little Barbara just walked up the podium and hastily intervened .

"Uh, sorry folks…we'll have a break here. Come back in fifteen time units."

The mother of the small girl gaped at him. "Time… units?"

Toombs frowned. "Can't take a hint, honey? Bugger off. Big nice Santa here is gonna take a break."

He grabbed a sign he had found in the sled and set it before Riddick's feet

"Beautiful memories, take a picture of Santa Clause with your children" was written on one side, "Santa Clause will be back in 30 minutes" on the other side that was now facing the crowd.

"Come on… Santa."

Riddick was so fast out of the sled that he nearly ripped his false beard off.

They pushed their way through the crowd toward the nearest mall exit and Riddick growled under his breath at Toombs "Prepare your fucking device. We're leaving here _now_. You've had enough time to reprogram it"

When he got no answer he shot a sideways glance at the fake Elf, whose pirate looks, side whiskers and unshaved face had already caused a couple of mall security guards to turn their heads after him.

Toombs looked straight ahead, little drops of perspiration forming on his temples.

Riddick stopped. A cold foreboding feeling shivered over his scalp. His deadly calm voice betrayed nothing of this.

"Toombs. Tell me."

The Merc stopped in his tracks, causing several patrons to bump into him and nearly drop their armfuls of shopping bags, and stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast moving truck.

"There is a slight problem," Toombs tried to put it off, his eyes locking on the rounded posterior of a pretty brunette, whose short skirt ended a good hand over her knees. He sidestepped a shopping-bag-laden mother castigating her crying four-year-old.

"_Tell. Me_." said Riddick carefully.

"The nuclear energy bloc is empty."

Their eyes met for a moment

"I think I need a drink," said Riddick, pushed his red hat up and pinched the base of his nose between thumb and index.

(to be continued)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Yeah, and I need a big steak, a beer and a ho," answered Toombs glumly.

"Problem is we got no money."

"No problem. You'll have to wait before giving Tiny Tim some fun, but I can and will have a drink right over there." Riddick pointed at a 'Dave's Finest' right in front of the Toy department.

Toombs in tow he crossed the alley separating the Toystore they just left and entered the restaurant. A rush of warm air, smelling of grilled meat, fries and cigarettes assaulted their nose and made them salivate at once.

A red-haired waitress with a badge identifying her as Sally White wandered up to them and smirked, "Hello Santa, hello Mr Elf-Man. Lunch break at the North Pole? You got your vouchers from Toy's R Us?"

Riddick opened his mouth but Toombs was faster to reply, "Sweetheart, it's our first day in the Christmas business. Can you send the bill over to the boss?"

Sally White nodded and smiled and led them to a free table. They sat, ordered and waited until two tankards stood before them before resuming their conversation.

"You said the powercell is empty. How do we fill it?" said Riddick.

"Well that is the problem. You've seen the timeline?" said Toombs.

Riddick nodded.

"If my memory is exact, the only place we can find that kind of power now is a military ship. The normal power plant security is too high, we'll never get in. We'll have to get on a ship equipped with a PWR…and we'll need some really special tools." said Toombs.

"Let me get this right… we need to break into a fuckin' military ship and tap into their nuclear drive to recharge that battery?" Unbelieving, Riddick leaned forward, silver eyes flashing, his fake Santa-beard nearly hanging in the beer.

Toombs was about to answer when a group of people who had just entered the booth attracted his attention. His eyes went round. He sighed, "Look at those hooters; I'm in fuckin' Merc Heaven!"

Riddick glanced impatiently in the same direction and froze.

About nine doll-like blonde women of all sizes and shapes, all dressed up in things called "Juicy Couture", "Cynthia Rowley", "Ferrari" or "Chocolate Obsession", (he would have sworn that the hair of at least half of them was fake and that two of them were men), had just come in laughing and giggling. They were wearing so much make-up that Riddick wondered for a moment if they had to scrape it off with a chisel, come night. Then a waiter popped up out of nowhere and guided them right to their corner of the restaurant!

Riddick noticed only now that the last empty table was touching theirs.

"We're leaving. Now." said Riddick but his voice went unheard when the first of the women spotted him and squealed:

"SANTA CLAUS!"

Next thing they knew, he and Toombs had two women each sitting on their lap, the rest of them standing at their sides and behind them, fake blonde hair mingling with fake Santa wig, the smell of cheap perfume overwhelming and a stressed waiter fumbling with a camera before them trying to get everybody in the picture.

"Now what is a group of hot babes like you doing in that kind of place," Toombs asked them, his hands busy.

"We're having a Barbie impersonator convention," explained the taller of the girls on his knees with a well modulated bass voice. "The competition is two floors down, but there are no restaurants on that level."

At this very moment the waiter had finally figured out how to operate the camera and the flash went off right at the moment where a full figured Barbie lifted Riddick's beard and planted a big kiss on his cheek under the encouraging shouts of her friends.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hands off, lady, until I say so." Riddick's cold voice coming from behind the beard was less than welcoming but the frightening effect was rather spoiled by Toombs' reaction. Once he realized that one of the girls on his knees actually was a man, he had thrown himself backwards so fast, that his stool had toppled over and he crash-landed on his back with the two fake Barbies on top.

"Now that was totally uncalled for, you big brute," the offended, deep voiced fake Blonde still straddling his legs informed him, while the shrieking other girl tried to pick herself up.

"I'm not going to rape you, you know? I don't do elves." His lop-sided wig discovered huge hula hoop-like garish pink rings in his earlobes.

"Get the hell off me!" Toombs was nearly having hysterics and his mood did not improve when he realized that the whole restaurant by now was trying to get a better look at him.

"Shut up, Toombs." Riddick smiled. And to the Barbieman, "He meant nothing by it, Lady. You took him by surprise. Just ignore him."

He hold out a hand and leaned forward: "_Come with me_."

The man timidly straightened his wig, blushed and hold out a hand so that Riddick could pull him up.

"What's your name, Miss?" Riddick purred.

"C-C-Caroline," the Barbie stammered.

"Hmmmmm. Let me pilot you back to your seat, Lady."

And without a glance back at the dumbstruck Toombs he took her elbow and urged her to her table.

_Now I've seen it all. As far as I know Big and Ugly only does chicks. What the hell is he up to again?_ a pissed Toombs thought, while picking himself up as well.

"You did not have to be so mean to Caro," a Silicone-valley-Barbie told Toombs.

"Sweetheart, where I come from men don't dress like chicks," Toombs lied, while trying not to stare at the offered visual bounty. "Finding one on my lap is a first for me."

That much was true. His homophobic views had made him more than once the target of dumb jokes from his crews until he kicked the dread of Toombs into their stupid asses.

"Let me get you ladies a drink." He put one arm around each girl and followed Riddick. He was not about to let that little misfortunate slip in character spoil his fun.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They did not get far. Riddick had set but one foot outside the little restaurant, the tall Barbieman tottering after him on enormous custom-made bright pink high heels, preceded by a wave of cheap perfume, when a mall-wide alarm went off over their heads and all the lights went out, quickly replaced by weak emergency lights. After hours of tinny Christmas jingles, Riddick thought the familiar noise of an alarm a refreshing change.

Anxious shouts erupted around them, kids were crying, and people looked this way and that, looking for an explanation or somebody to blame for spoiling their pre-Christmas shopping spree. The group of Barbies got sucked into the stream of people heading for the exits and with a regretful pinch to his arm and slap on Riddick's ass the male Barbie excused himself as well, blew a saucy kiss to Toombs (who looked ready for murder again) and let himself being pushed forth by the slow stampede of weary mommies and daddies and harassed looking salespeople who tried to tell everybody that everything was alright and exits were this way please.

Unbelieving, Riddick stared after him and rubbed his ass. With a visible effort he turned to Toombs and waggled his shaggy white fake eyebrows at him.

"Mercs?"

Toombs shook his head no and whispered "Fire… more likely. Or a bomb alarm, they had lots of them at that time. Whatever, that's our best chance to get out of here unnoticed,"

They joined the crowd heading to the elevators, and could hear from a distance the angry voices and feel the crowds pace slowing down to a shuffle. Then Riddick pointed Toombs to a nearly hidden staircase, correctly guessing that elevators probably were either not working or overrun. The staircase was empty, the steps covered with cheap red carpet, and the case smelled of turpentine and new paint.

Down they went until they reached the thick door labeled "First Floor". Riddick frowned. There should be more noise behind that door, voices, something, but all he could hear was the alarm ringing on and on.

Then Toombs had reached the door and pushed it wide open. And froze. So did Riddick, while facing the four men wearing black hoods and armed with old-fashioned fire-weapons, two of which were not trained on them. Toombs eyed the new looking Ruger MP9 with longing, then spat disgusted on the carpet and put his hands up.

Riddick was slower to follow his example and one of the masked men swore, stomped over to them, took in the Santa and Elf costumes and jerked his Ruger at Riddick, clearly intimating him to put up hands and come closer.

"Skittish." mouthed Riddick at Toombs before he obeyed.

They were herded over to a mixed group of people huddled beneath a giant Christmas tree, which was so loaded with fake snow and transparent and golden plastic angels, that only the very tips of the branches showed hints of green. The group stared back at them, lack of interest with that special hint of impatience written all over their faces outing them as typical big city dwellers: Two white-faced salesmen, a couple teenagers gripping their shopping bags to their chest, one old woman who kept shaking her walking stick at the assailants and muttering dire threats in a wobbling voice, a business man who kept glancing at his wrist watch, obviously more worried about being late to some appointment than getting shot dead at the mall and the mother with the sticky girl, which, by the number of bags on the floor around her, looked as if she had managed to acquire half of the toy store.

When the sticky girl caught sight of Riddick, she stuck her tongue out to him.

One of the hooded men, clothed in a pair of black jeans and a bomber jacket, was shoveling jewelry from smashed showcases into his bag.

_A simple hold-up then. Fucking amateurs, should have done that by night, cut risk and needed forces in half._

Police sirens were howling outside too, causing one of the bandits to start.

"Very skittish." whispered Riddick. Toombs glared at him, not liking the reminder.

"YOU THERE!" One of the hooded men was advancing on the little group.

"The big Santa! Get over here!" Toombs stared at the finger pointed at Riddick as if it might go off.

"They won't want Santa Claus to die, now will they? I'll talk to the police and ask for a helicopter."

With a growing sense of doom, Toombs watched Riddick crack his head from side to side and stretch his arms before stepping forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"You must be joking."

Riddick's deadpan expression gave away nothing of the furiously working mind behind the silver eyes. The lay-out of the hallway was long memorized. One fast glance around told him the location of the six burglars that were holding him, Toombs and the group of neutrals behind captive.

The man walking up to him was nearly in reach now, his face reddening, weapon waving carelessly around, _little shit is so cocksure of himself because he's holding a weapon._

"Are you giving me lip Santa? Move your ass over here…"

Riddick's face split into something nearly resembling a grin. "You're making this fuckin' too easy. Kinda takes the fun out of it."

He _moved _

_One, two, three steps, shift right, grab weapon, pull, butt head hard, Merc… no, not a Merc,, one stupid shithead down, swing weapon around, Fire selector is on semi-auto. Shoot. Spray left to right, should be about 600 rounds minute by the sound of it, magazine holds what, 30 32, bang, bang, bang, 4 down, nice little gun, blowback action, range… laughable. Can't be much more than 20 meters. First target has finished his fall too, stomp on ribcage._

_Drop empty gun, jump, roll, two targets left, shivs out, these guys are laughing stuff, they didn't even get one shot off, fumbling with their safeties, yelling at each other, go for the sweetspot, no, forgot the kid is watching, shit._

A shrill noise was grating in his ears, the mother of the sticky girl was screaming.

Riddick ignored her and settled for cracking the last two thieves' heads together and dropped the unconscious bodies behind the reception desk, then wrinkled his nose at the smell rising from their messy pants.

"A fuckin' insult. I'm turning into garbage man here. Toombs! Get your smelly merc-carcass over here and take the garbage out!"

Without waiting for an answer, Riddick turned, then sauntered back to the frozen group in the corner, feeling good with a bit of exercise taking the edge of his anger over this stupid time travelling adventure. He wiped his big hands on the red Santa suit, before tucking the long beard back in behind his black Santa belt.

The screaming mother fainted. The silence after the shooting and screaming was deafening. Eighteen scared eyes, shocked to death, followed his relaxed, quiet approach in just the way a colony of rabbits sitting on a highway, struck and paralyzed by the headlights of a fast moving heavy-duty truck's headlights might watch their death come up fast – they looked at him as if they already _were_ road-pizza.

Riddick frowned.

"What? Those guys have been BAD boys this year."

Toombs covered his eyes with one hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**_The Ghost of Dark Christmas ? Santa Shoots Three in Shopping Mall!_**

_MURDER INVESTIGATION: On December 21, Year 2005 at 1:17 p.m., New York Police officers responded to Manhattan Mall 6th Avenue 33th Street in NY for the report of a shooting. Investigation revealed a burglary attempt by three known criminals. They were holding a dozen people at gunpoint when they were interrupted by the entrance of two other males. The burglars tried to abduct one of them when the intended victim somehow disarmed his assailant and opened fire. After the shooting he man was seen simply walking out of the building, closely followed by his accomplice. A mall security man observed that the two suspects were wearing Mall Christmas disguises and reported that 'Santa shot them all'. The bullet damage to the Manhattan Mall entrance hall is extensive, but no goods have been reported missing. _

_"His eyes were burning in an unholy light!" Mrs Nathalie Jones reports, mother of seven year old Peggy Jones, another eyewitness of the drama. "I knew he wasn't the real Santa, he said some bad words to me and he did not even know Rudolph," little Peggy Jones told to our correspondent. "I thought I would die of fright when he started shooting all those poor men," Zacharias Piddlemurk from Piddlemurk and Co told us. _

_Gruesome detail: As another eyewitness to the thwarted burglary of one of big Apple's' biggest malls recalls, "Those guys have been bad boys last year" was the explanation given by the still missing killer minutes after the triple homicide. _

_'Dark Santa', as he is called by now, has been described as a 'very strong man, about 6 feet tall, with frightening, glowing grey-blue eyes. He is wanted by the NYPD as a suspect for triple homicide. He should be considered extremely dangerous. Do not attempt to apprehend this subject. If you have information about the whereabouts of this fugitive, immediately contact … _

Toombs looked up from the Newspaper, "They even have a security cam picture."

"Is it a good one? I hate when they show my right profile." Riddick answered and went back to shaving his head. The little mirror over the basin reflected his mercury eyes back to him.

His black Jeans were hugging his narrow hips; he was wearing a red checked flannel shirt and heavy leather boots and from back he looked just like a Clark Kent (Smallville) on steroids if he had switched heads with Lex Luthor.

"Good enough to fuck up our plans something good!" spat Toombs.

Riddick's eyes met Toombs' gaze in the mirror.

"I wasn't aware that we HAD a plan yet, " said Riddick.

"Shades." he caught the sunglasses Toombs threw him in one hand and put them on.

"How does it look?" Riddick rolled his shoulders.

Toombs stared at him, "What do you think? Guess that's the kind of question I should expect from some asshat con whose dick is itching so badly, that he even hits on fake blonde male-babes inna mall. Gimme a break, I'm trying to come up with a plan here!"

Half a second later Riddick's fist caught him square on the chin and send him sprawling to the floor.

"Show some respect. A good elf doesn't talk back to Dark Santa," said Riddick, back in front of the basin, as if he had never moved from there and wiped with a cloth at the rest of shaving foam on his chin.

Toombs jumped up, "Do that again, asshole, and I swear, I'll forget about the money you're worth and kill you myself!"

"Will you now," said Riddick and turned back to him, his expression suddenly unreadable.

The tension in the small hotel room suddenly rocketed off the scale.

Toombs caved first, as Riddick had known he would. The merc was a dick, but he was not quite as stupid a dick as the crews he tended to hire.

Toombs stomped to the small fridge in the room and took out a sixpack. He sat down at the table again, rolled the newspaper into a paperball, threw it at the wall and popped a beer, before gesturing to the other chair.

"Tastes like horsepiss, but it's the only brand I recognized. Come have a look. I nicked a map."

Riddick approached and took a beer. He peered curiously at the map Toombs was deploying. Toombs put his finger on a spot, "We are here."

Then he moved his hand for quite a distance, "And we have to get here."

Riddick growled, "You got to be kidding me. _San Francisko_?"

Toombs nodded slowly, "Afraid so. And flying is out of the question."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Temporary Religious Workers**

"No flying, " Riddick repeated.

"No flying." Toombs confirmed. "Airport security is not Spaceport security, but we don't have access to the same sources of fake ID either. I've asked around. We can hitchhike our way over there. If we want to go faster, we can go there by train, or, and I suggest we take that one, there is something called the 'Greyhound bus'.

But in each case we'll need-"

"Papers. And cash. " said Riddick . "I'll handle it. Find out when the first bus leaves and meet me here in four time units." He donned a large, worn leather jacket and walked to the door. His hand on the handle, he hesitated, "Toombs."

The faraway look in Toomb's eyes and the eat-shit grin pulling at his wide mouth vanished, as he turned to look at Riddick, "Yeah?"

"No whores. I said four time units. Just fetch the tickets."

Riddick started to close the door.

Toombs scowled at that and then grinned suddenly, "I knew, all that Ho Ho Ho wasn't good for your tiny braincell. You want tickets? Get me some cash. Or go fuck yourself a priest. I've heard you like holy men. Puts a smile on your face and hair on your chest, doing a priest. I've seen a church right around the corner."

He put his feet up on the table. A deep menacing growl had him look up.

"Careful what you're diggin' for, Toombs. You talk trash to me again about the Holy Man and I'll introduce you to a new game."

"What's it called?" Toombs asked.

"Pop goes the eyeball."

Riddick's expression did not change. His eyes were hidden behind his glasses. Toombs swallowed, and for once, didn't reply.

The door closed.

Left alone, Toombs got another can of beer and opened it. He jumped at the popping noise closely followed by the beer hissing as it overflowed. Then, as if he could not help himself, he slowly lifted a hand and carefully covered his left eye.

"Shit."

Furious, Riddick prowled down the street and tried to calm his growing impatience with the merc. He nearly had lost it there and ghosted him, and with him, his only ticket home.

_I really could do with a good fight, right now! Fuck Toombs._

As he neared the 'church', Toombs had indicated him, he slowed his pace. The noise inside was deafening to his acute hearing and it did not resemble anything he knew of churches.

A large group of people seemed to be scanding something. Distracted from his anger, Riddick approached.

"RaHoWa! RaHoWa! RaHoWa!"(1)

_What the fuck?_

He took a step forward and stared at a pamphlet pinned at the door of the building, announcing a weekly meeting of the World Church of the Creator (2) for tonight.

He heard steps of a couple of people coming up behind him

"What are you staring at, mud?" said a young male voice.

"Guess the Nigger is looking for a Jackson whitewash job," said a second voice.

Deliberately slowly, Riddick turned around.

A six foot something tall, dark-haired man with clear blue eyes and a smaller man with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes sneered back at him. Both were tapping metal bars to their jean-clothed legs.

"He looks Jewish to me. Don't you think that he looks Jewish, Tom?"

"Whatever. There's no shower getting that asshole white," said the smaller man. "Answer us, mud. You've got nothing to do this close to the World Church of the Creator. You might dirty it. Are you a Jew?"

Riddick's answer was non verbal, fast and terminal.

He rapidly searched the two still twitching bodies, took their papers and wallets and looked around for a place to hide them. His eyes lit on a big garbage dumpster.

_This place is definitely turning me into a garbage man. Still – trash belongs into the trash. I've alw_ays liked things to be neat.

Riddick's step had a definite spring to it, as he quietly went up the stairs to the hotel room he shared with Toombs less than half an hour after leaving it.

When he opened the door, Toombs swore and dropped his can of beer.

"I thought you were going to get us some cash."

Wordlessly, Riddick dropped two bloody wallets on the table and pulled the other chair close.

"I did."

Toombs started at once happily thumping through the wallets and whistled through his teeth, while counting, "Five, six, seven, eight, … that's eight hundred and fifty dollars you got us there! These guys were loaded."

"Full with shit. I noticed."

"Look at that!"

Riddick looked. Toombs was staring dumbfounded at some official looking papers.

"You bastard. You got us papers and Visas as Temporary Religious Workers."

"Only improving on your suggestion. Religious workers are the next best thing to a priest, right?" said Riddick.

Toombs gaped at him.

"Fetch the tickets, Toombs." said Riddick and pushed some cash at him.

The merc shook his head, got up, donned his jacket and walked to the door, when Riddick's voice stopped him again.

"By the way… what's a Jew?"

Toombs hesitated, "Should I know that?"

"And what's a nigger?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Why do you want to know that?"

"They called me that, just before I killed them. Just wanted to make sure that I killed them for the right reasons."

"Since when do you need a reason?" was Toombs parting shot, before the door closed behind him.

"There always is a reason," Riddick said to the empty room.

-----------------------------------------------------------

_Note by author: I have not invented these guys. They actually exist._

_(1) RaHoWa racial holy war_

_(2) The Creativity Movement is a racialist, and White-supremacist organization that advocates a "White Religion" called Creativity. Though "Anti-Christian" in a contemporary sense, the Creativity Movement is a surrogate of Positive Christianity, and is guided by elements of a pseudo-Christian racial Manichaeanism. The group also denies the Holocaust, embraces racial neo-eugenics with a religious mission that is dedicated to the "survival, expansion and advancement of the White Race exclusively."_

_The Creativity Movement was known as the bWorld Church of the Creator/b or WCOTC from 1996 to 2002, and Church of the Creator from 1973 to 1996. It is not related to the TE-TA-MA "Truth" Foundation's Church of the Creator, which legally trademarked the name Church of the Creator and won a lawsuit in 1996, forcing the most recent name change._

_For more information, check Wikipedia here:_

_http://en. _


End file.
